“I see.”
“You do?” She was surprised to hear genuine understanding in her master’s voice. He inhaled deeply and slowly breathed out the morning air through his aquiline nose. His sparkling dark eyes lost their focus and for a moment made him appear distant, as if his soul had floated away.
“Yes, I do he said. Some time ago, when I was about your age, I was taken to India, by my parents. My father, God rest his soul, was Viceroy there for a couple of years.” Elizabeth felt herself relax. Lord Dixon’s words sounded like a fairytale. His life and the world he called his own might as well have been a different universe to the one she had grown up in.
She had always loved stories and it felt like her master was sharing secret magic with her.
“While on the subcontinent, I experienced a crisis of faith similar to the one you feel now. However, I was blessed that I was able to share my tribulations with a very wise old man. My parents’ good friend was a famous Hindu philosopher. He taught me a lot about that country’s myriad customs and religions.”
“I think it was fate, I just happened to feel spiritual thirst exactly when I happened to be in the presence of a fountainhead of knowledge and experience. I learned a lot then and I believe it has stayed with me ever since. He guided me and helped me partake in a number of ceremonies and practices normally closed off to foreigners. I don’t think I would have the strength to be the man I am today without the guidance of this old guru.”
“Can you teach me about the spiritual secrets he told you?” Elizabeth suddenly felt uncharacteristically emboldened and brave. “Share with me what this man told you. Please my Lord! Show me and teach me those mysteries, I beseech you. I don’t know what is wrong with me, but I am afraid that without proper inspiration and guidance I will simply degenerate into yet another hollow soul like the people I have grown up with. Their only concern is how to make ends meet and survive another day. It is as if their souls have long since died and it is the mere husks of their bodies that shuffle about in the streets.” The quailing intonation of her own pleas surprised even herself. Was she truly that desperate, she wondered?
There was something about Lord Dixon that had infused her with strength and boldness to question the very essence of her existence. Perhaps it was his vigor and decisiveness that inspired her to be that way. He had claimed her not unlike a king of old would have claimed a peasant girl to be his bed wench. Even now feeling his big muscular body by her, Elizabeth shivered to imagine how his famous ancestors had probably claimed peasant virgins for rights of prima nocta.
“I will be good with you if you do,” she added in a husky voice with a mischievous twinkle in her brown eyes.
“I know you would, sweet child,” the Lord said. “I would love to tell you about Buddhism and Tantric yoga, I truly would. But surely you must be able to understand that there is more to it than merely a lecture on Eastern mysticism, sweetheart.” Elizabeth felt her master’s reluctance in his voice and her heart quailed at being denied something to which, with the spirit and optimism characteristic of her youth, she had suddenly felt entitled to.
A very naughty thought occurred to her and she blushed crimson suddenly grateful that the morning twilight seeping through the curtains was insufficient to reveal the color that had suffused her skin. The man’s body was big and hers was small, so she had to shimmy and stretch as she positioned her warm soft triangle over his still dormant cock.
He smiled. “You are making it very difficult for your Lord to deny your little plea. And here I was laboring under the assumption that a maiden would behave with the timid demeanor appropriate to her virginal state. Apparently I was much in error.”
Her blush deepened and dark desires in her belly stirred as her quim watered dripping wetness upon her master’s quickly hardening prick. She didn’t know what to say feeling rational thought quickly ebbing from her mind, her actions now suddenly under the control of something ancient and primal.
Lord Dixon’s big hands came down and insinuated themselves between her throbbing breasts. His smile turned to a grin, his teeth sparkling white in the blue darkness of the early morning as his fingers closed around her sensitive throbbing nipples and squeezed. Elizabeth’s eyes sparkled and then tears formed but her hips started little undulating movements upon his cock massaging her juices into his skin as her outer lips engulfed him sliding up and down its length.
“Take me,” she whispered into his ear utter disbelief at her own wantonness squeezing her heart and yet she said it again this time louder and in a husky voice, “Take me my Lord please!”
“I cannot, sweet child,” he said, his voice full of regret, and yet husky and breathless as his hands twisted mashing her nipples flat. She whimpered and whinnied like a filly but her hips only increased their fantastic vibrations across his thick member.
“Take me,” she said and lifted herself up on her knees reaching down with her left hand to guide him up against her wet center. Lord Dixon closed his eyes and summoned every ounce of willpower in his possession. It was early in the day and fate was already testing him.
A part of him was screaming delicious delight edging him on to plunder the succulent little virgin and sheer away her maidenhead claiming her as his forever. He had known from the moment he laid eyes on the blushing girl that a lustful creature lay hidden and in wait beneath her demure façade. But he had made a promise, one he considered amongst the holiest of all – – a promise to her parents.
He had given them his word to return her, her hymen intact, her virginal chastity preserved. The danger this little vixen was causing him was almost too much to bear. He would not be able to live with himself if he went back on his word. There was nothing he valued more than the sanctity of a promise especially if he had been the one that had given it.
“No!” He growled and wrapped the fist of his right hand around the graceful neck of his wench squeezing the blood out of her arteries and lifting her effortlessly up from his panting body. The girl froze as if petrified, her eyes suddenly big and scared, her breath – – nonexistent, her voice gone, her muscles taut, her sinews standing on end.
“I. Made. A. Promise.” The Lord hissed angry at himself, the threat of his own weakness almost overwhelming him. “I will not go back on my word. You shall not make a liar out of me, little vixen.” He lifted her like a small vibrating, squirming, shivering ragdoll, up in the air. He sat up in the bed and pivoted, placing her down again, her body flopping like a fish out of water, embedding her into his soft mattress. Pure bewilderment clouded the virgin’s features as her eyes slowly surrendered their focus. Her vision blurred and narrowed into a tunnel centered upon the Lord’s tense face. Blackness slowly edged its way from all sides like ink across a dry sheet of paper.
When Lord Dixon released his hold, she coughed and choked grateful to be alive, grateful for precious air and her Lord’s mercy. Her eyes rolled back in her head as she breathed panting and exhaling, sputtering and coughing like an engine pushed to its limit. Her body screamed in protest, every last nerve shredded in pain, and yet she had never felt a rush of pure raw sexual excitement like the one causing her quim to pulse and water now.
Even her toes curled and squeezed, making little useless fists, trying to grasp at this beast of a man that had claimed such vast control over her begging body. In the darkness of the early morning, her vision still clouded from lack of oxygen, the hulking giant knelt between her splayed legs like a creature from a nightmare long forgotten, a gargoyle perhaps. Droplets of sweat dripped from his thick muscles onto her quivering belly gently pooling before pouring down onto the warm linen beneath.
“You shall remain a virgin until I say otherwise, until I inform your parents that I intend to claim you as a woman,” the man said and grasped her knees pushing her legs open and back, lifting her lower body up in the air and placing her weight almost entirely on her neck. “But you have started an inferno that only your butt can now extinguish.”
Elizabeth
gasped. He had already claimed her there but she still couldn’t quite get used to the idea that the man could put his thing up her ass. It didn’t seem natural. But then, he wasn’t asking for permission anyway.
Elizabeth used the palm of her hands to wipe away the sweat and tears from her eyes and then wrapped her little fists in her long chestnut curls pulling them up tightly to her head like he had told her, preparing herself for her ravishment.
“That’s a good girl. Remember what I taught you last time. I need you to bear down and submit to me. Your discomfort is important, especially if you really want to learn how to achieve spiritual enlightenment through the thrills of your body. Feel what your body feels and surrender yourself to it. Learn to relinquish and forget whatever notions you might have had before. Listen to the sound of my voice and concentrate on your breathing I will do the rest sweet girl.”
Again, as before, Elizabeth slowly felt her mind relax and go numb as she obeyed him and loosened herself up to accept his probing girth. She was mesmerized by how serene and self-assured her master was every time he chose to mount her like that. He was persistent and she knew he would not stop until he had achieved his goal. But Elizabeth also was certain that he would never hurt her either. He was always gentle and tender, almost as if his mind could read her thoughts and worked double time to ensure her pleasure came first. She felt his finger gently brush around her rosebud.
“You are already so very wet. Your sex is leaking and it has moistened your butt for me already. Your body now knows to whom it belongs and yearns for me to master it.” Elizabeth was past feeling shame. She nodded in agreement, too numb to speak. Holding her knees back pressed against her chest with his left hand, he placed the tip of the index finger on his right hand against her puckered opening. “Bear down for me and submit,” he said. “Imagine you are in the bathroom and trying to go.”
She whimpered in frustration but did as he had ordered. “That’s a good girl. Try again. Take a deep breath and bear down. Push! I want you to open up. Don’t be afraid, I have you. There is nothing to be ashamed of and besides, I know the butler gave you a cleansing enema just last night. It will be okay.”
She felt him bend down and gently kiss the back of her thighs. Elizabeth took a deep breath and pushed tightening her abdomen and opening up her sphincter muscles. She felt a tremor shake her entire body as she did it and scrunched up her face in concentration. “There, that’s a good girl. Take another breath and do it again.” His voice had taken control of the young submissive servant and she obeyed his every word.
She felt tiny droplets ooze out from between her nether lips to dribble onto her perineum from where they slid onto her gently quivering sphincter. He lifted his finger from there and she gasped softly feeling the bulbous head of his glans take its place. Just then something gave in her mind and she realized with a deep shame her mistake at not having taken the time to empty her bladder earlier.
Somewhere deep within her body her anxiety caused a bubble of ecstasy to burst and squirming vibrations squeezed her lower abdomen twisting her insides and making her womb vibrate. It was all too much for her untrained pelvic muscles and she lost all control and started peeing.
“Oh, my God, I’m so terrible! I’m sorry!” She said covering her face with her hands. She was mortified, but her master didn’t even move back. Instead she heard him chuckle softly and felt his wide tumescence push forward slowly.
“Don’t you worry one bit, sweet girl. Your papa has you,” His voice was like honey and she took strength from it. “You are so beautiful. Too precious for words.” Her entire body was shaking visibly and yet she somehow was able to find the strength to speak. “Thank you, papa… Papa...”
He laughed and gently slapped the upturned soles of her feet. It made her butt tighten in exquisite little grasps against his hardness. “Shush, little one, don’t speak. Just feel and experience,” he said and she obeyed. “Use your hair like before. If you feel discomfort, pull your hair and distract yourself with it, if necessary.” She nodded meekly and did just as he said taking a deep breath and trying as best she could to steel herself for her submission. Slowly the young body servant was learning a new way to submit and impress upon her own mind her servitude.
Her Lord drank in the beauty of her face. There was still so much she had to learn. Perhaps it was destiny guiding her to him. Just like he had been guided all those years ago to seek the tutelage of the guru in India. Perhaps by accepting her as his submissive trainee, he was meant to return the favor. He would teach her the beauty of tantra. He would acquiesce to her pleas and become her teacher.
There was still so much she had to learn. Young, naïve and uneducated, she had no appreciation for the profound aesthetics of physical experience. Would he have the necessary strength to carry her through on her voyage of discovery, Lord Dixon wondered.
For her journey could not be an affair of half measures. He would have to show her the entire rainbow of human emotions and the beauty of their colors. If one only saw happiness, one was missing more than half of life.
He would have to teach her the beauty of all experiences showing her anger, pain and anguish had tastes all their own. Lord Dixon was officially a practicing Presbyterian, just like herself. But that was all merely a pretense. Deep down he was a committed Eastern Mystic and now he realized that the gods must have decided that little Elizabeth needed him in her life to help her soul progress on its eternal journey. Yes, it would be his honor to be her guide on it. He would bear up and steel his nerve and be his beautiful Elizabeth’s teacher if she still wanted him.
Of course he would make sure he would seek her approval on every stage of the way. Looking down on her squirming little body writhing in delicious discomfort and ecstasy beneath him as he slowly probed his way into her bowel, Lord Dixon knew the choice she would inevitably make and smiled.
He slowly pushed down on her knees forcing her body to sink further into the mattress bringing her ass up to meet his unremitting head. With careful restraint he watched her face gauging whether to pause or persevere. Elizabeth groaned and he stopped for a moment giving her time to adjust, fighting his raw instinctive need to plow into her gripping heat. This was not the time to teach, but merely to assuage the pent-up lust of both of them. She had placed her trust in him and it was his duty to not betray it by causing her unexpected pain.
He looked down to check and saw he was halfway there. He made a mental note to later start stretching her out with plugs more in line with his own girth. It would be best for both of them if she was better prepared to take him there for he was well aware of the intense pleasure that could be experienced from a well intended and patient anal fuck.
He loved the way her soft downy hair looked around her tiny hole. Above it, the soft petals of her virgin quim were swollen and red, and so very wet, begging for his attention in confused arousal at being so mischievously neglected. A soft moan of pleasure escaped her lips and he smiled with genuine warmth at his young charge. He was almost there. Slowly he pushed in another inch and then paused again waiting for her labored breath to quiet.
Sweat broke out on Lord Dixon’s brow as he felt almost overwhelmed by his lust.
One more push, and finally he was all the way in, his soft curly hairs tightly pressed against hers. He looked down on her and saw pure desire painted across her small face.
“Ask me to fuck your bum, baby girl,” he commanded. He loved to hear her speak those lewd words with her pretty little lips. But more than that, he wanted her to learn that it was acceptable for her to bare her emotions to him.
Earlier she had tried to assume control by mounting him and almost having herself fuck down on his rod, all on her own, but that was unacceptable. He was her master and he was the only one who could be in charge. She was his servant, and now soon to become his student too. There was a lot she would have to learn but first she would first need to accept her own openness and unrestrained honesty.
“Please, m
y Lord, take me, fuck my bum,” Elizabeth gasped in labored syllables. She so wanted to please him. If only he would stop making her say such dirty things.
“Ask me to use my cock and ream you out.”
“Please, my Lord, if it pleases you, use your – – your cock and – – ream me – – ream me out – –,” please she panted.
Lord Dixon pulled slowly back and grasped his engorged staff. He gently stroked it spreading the sweat and moisture that the girl’s body had deposited onto it. He could feel her nervously try to shift around beneath his steely grasp, her tiny hands curling and opening in her hair. She was well on her way to hyperventilating. Lord Dixon didn’t want her to faint. That wouldn’t do. Elizabeth had to stay lucid and partake in the experience of her anal plunder.
“Deep breaths. Count to three every time you inhale before you let it out.” He marveled at the high level of control he had so easily achieved over his young charge. He watched as she hesitated only a brief moment before heeding his advice and applying herself to attain a more measured cadence of breathing.
He touched her small puckered rosebud watching it quiver beneath his fingertip. He edged forward and returned the bulbous head of his cock that loomed like a giant club at her back entrance. It was almost obscene how big it was in comparison to her still semi-virginal opening. He leaned in and pushed. He winced with the expected resistance and then immediately looked down to see his grimace mimicked by the girl. He chuckled to himself not without a small measure of sadistic enjoyment for he knew that even though they shared similar reactions, Elizabeth’s was caused by a perception of shame and maybe even a tinge of discomfort.
Elizabeth, His Lordship’s Demure Body-Servant. Ten Volume Compilation Page 7